Driving isn’t something that I’m overly fond of. It’s mundane and terrifying and easy (all things I try to avoid). Hurtling down the road at 70 miles an hour in a black death trap isn’t on my things of overly amazing things that I want to do. But I did it anyway. For six hours. And now, sitting in my room, swaddled with a blanket and my laptop wedged between my legs and my stomach, I feel tired and sore and cranky.

I just want to lay down and never move again, but I need to find a job tomorrow so I need to be able to sleep tonight. Otherwise, I’d be all over sleeping at 1 a.m. to binge watch my favorite shows.

I still have things I need to do today also, but I can’t make myself go and do them. I feel as if everything inside me is chained to my bed and a part of my soul will come loose if I try to move. And the milky way on my desk is practically seducing me by laying there so sexily, its wrapper only hiding what I know is there.

I weigh my options: to eat and get fat or to not eat and get stuff done (because I know that if I eat it, I won't get anything done).

But somehow, the candy bar wins out and I’m ripping the plastic off of its chocolatey goodness and devouring its caramel center. And it's everything I've ever dreamed.

The next day is a blur. I find my job by chance after 5 hours of fake politeness and awkward exchanges (and maybe I wussed out after walking into a couple of stores). I'm told I start the day after next and I head home to the mess I should have cleaned yesterday and decide to reward myself by giving myself the rest of the day off (or at least allow myself the opportunity to momentarily forget about the clutter still sitting on my floor like a mine field) with the promise that I'll definitely do it tomorrow.

And I ignore the irony, the little niggling in the back of my mind that says “ya, you're not going to do it.” I know it's right, procrastination it's like a drug that you get hooked on after the first hit. And you always end up turning to it because there are hundreds of other things you'd rather be doing than the responsible thing sitting in the back of your mind, screaming to be heard.